


Contentment

by Golden_Asp



Series: Contentment, Joy, and Ecstasy-Ironstrange Trilogy [1]
Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: EVERYONE - Freeform, Everyone lives, Fluff, M/M, Post Thanos, Stephen complies, They love each other, Tony needs a hug and sleep, got pretty sappy at the end, this is pretty much an excuse to have Tony sleep with his head in Stephen's lap, what is tagging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-27
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2019-05-14 08:25:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14766029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Golden_Asp/pseuds/Golden_Asp
Summary: Tony hadn't gotten a good night's sleep since before Afghanistan.  Even with Thanos gone and everyone back, he still can't shake the nightmares.  At a party, Stephen Strange gives him hope for the future that they fought for.basically just fluff.





	Contentment

**Author's Note:**

> I guess this is for irnstrvnge's 10k contest thingy, of which I'm not really sure how it's working but hey, it got me to write a nearly 4k word ironstrange fluff fest. If anyone has read my other stuff, fluff really isn't my strong suit. I'm known as the queen of angst for a reason. I'm sure I'll get to angst with these boys eventually, but for now, please enjoy this story.
> 
> not beta-ed

Tony Stark wasn’t really a fan of parties anymore. Sure, they had defeated the biggest of the bad, somehow gotten those who had died back, broken so many laws of physics and time and everything he believed in that his head _still_ hurt, but they had won. They deserved to party.

It had been his plan, mostly, and everyone was still intent on congratulating him, or asking him about it, about the things he had done to win, and he hated it. He was exhausted, mentally and physically, and mostly wanted to be alone. He rarely went out. He wanted a quiet retirement. He deserved it, didn’t he?

So why was he here, standing in the corner of a room in the newly renovated Avengers Tower, watching everyone mingle and chat and drink? He felt more alone than ever.

There was Peter, talking with Shuri, both chatting over each other in their excitement over whatever they were talking about. T’Challa watched them with a smile on his face. His eyes drifted to Wanda and Vision, standing quietly and constantly touching, reassuring each other that they were both alive, even if the Infinity Stone that had resided in Vision’s head was gone.

Tony didn’t even bother asking. Vision was back. He didn’t really care how it happened. As much as he still didn’t fully trust Wanda, he was glad she had found happiness. 

Speaking of not trusting people, Steve Rogers’ laughter drew Tony’s eyes to him. His chest ached in remembered pain and he rubbed at his sternum. Rogers had his arm over Bucky Barnes’ shoulder, the two men laughing at something Natasha had said. Tony didn’t hate them, not anymore. It was hard to go through the end of the whole fucking universe and keep up the energy to hate someone.

It didn’t mean he trusted either one of them. He had seen his death in Steve Rogers’ eyes that day in Siberia. He still had nightmares about it.

He had a lot of nightmares.

It was why he didn’t sleep much. Two, three hours at a time if he was lucky.

He sipped his ginger ale and turned to survey the rest of the room, keeping his back against the wall so no one could sneak up on him.

There was Pepper, and his heart twisted slightly. They were better off as friends. It was unfair of him to keep expecting her to wait for him and all of his issues. They had parted ways amicably, and remained strong friends. She was talking to Rhodey, and Tony watched them for a bit before scanning the room again.

Even the Guardians had swung by. He saw the raccoon sneaking up to Rogers and Barnes, and Tony half hoped that Rocket did steal Barnes’ arm. It would be amusing at least. Quill was teaching Gamora to dance.

At least Quill had decent taste in music.

The only ones who weren’t at the party were Thor and Loki, off searching for the scattered remnants of their people.

Tony was okay with that. He still didn’t trust Loki, even if the trickster had been instrumental in the defeat of Thanos, but Thor was happy as hell to have his snake of a brother back, and Tony wouldn’t take Thor’s happiness away.

He rubbed at his forehead, his temples throbbing in pain. He just wanted to curl up in a dark room and not move. He wouldn’t sleep. He couldn’t sleep.

His dreams were confused things most nights.

He was in Afghanistan, but instead of Yinsen it was Steve Rogers, telling him what a failure he was and then torturing him and slamming that shield into the arc reactor. He was on Titan, holding Peter Parker as the kid blamed him for his death, holding nothing but dust at the end of it. He was on Titan, standing before Thanos and wearing his own gauntlet. He was falling through the endless expanse of space, alone and never dying.

He nearly dropped his tumbler of ginger ale when a gentle hand touched his shoulder. He scrambled to catch it, some sloshing over the side.

“Forgive me,” Doctor Stephen Strange’s deep voice said quietly, “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Tony turned and looked at him, wiping ginger ale on his pants. Stephen was in casual clothes, just jeans and a long sleeved shirt. Tony did see the Cloak floating by the punch bowl. Tony half wondered if it was spiking the punch.

Tony blinked up at Strange, aware again of how tall the doctor was. They had been spending more time together since the end of Thanos. Stephen understood him in a way no one else seemed to, and he didn’t want anything from Tony.

It was refreshing.

“Totally fine, Doc,” Tony said, voice rough. He tried to shake the memories of those nightmares, but he was sure it showed in his eyes. 

Stephen arched his eyebrow, tilting his head. He could see the exhaustion on Tony’s face, the slump of his shoulders. He also caught the pain in his eyes, the way he flinched at the bright light, the trembling in his hands (so different from the shaking of Strange’s own).

“When was the last time you slept?” Stephen asked.

Oh right. Strange was a real doctor. Tony forgot sometimes.

“I slept last night,” Tony said defensively.

Stephen gave him a look. “When was the last time you had a full night’s rest?”

Tony rubbed at his face, thinking. Normally, he would offer some sarcastic quip, expecting Strange to snark right back at him. But he was too damn tired to care and fight anymore.

“Uh, before the Battle of New York,” Tony said quietly.

Stephen tensed. That was years ago.

“No, that’s not right,” Tony said, eyes focused on nothing over Stephen’s shoulder. “It was the flight to Afghanistan, the night before I revealed the Jericho missiles.” His voice was flat, unemotional.

He hadn’t gotten a full night’s sleep since then, horrors and nightmares piling up year after year, day after day.

“Come,” Stephen said quietly, leading Tony over to an empty couch in the corner of the large room. Tony followed him, his head pounding with every beat of his heart. He flopped onto the couch, head back against cushions.

Stephen sat next to him, watching him. Tony had lost weight since the battle with Thanos. He looked exhausted, utterly exhausted.

“How long have you had the headaches?” Stephen asked as Tony rubbed at his head again.

“Forever?” Tony asked. “I don’t know, Stephen. Since Titan, I guess. I keep hearing—”

_Mr. Stark, I don’t feel so good._

_Tony…There was no other way._

He jerked back when Stephen touched his cheek, eyes wide. Stephen seemed to know what was going through his head.

Stephen had already apologized and Tony had accepted, but it didn’t mean those words didn’t haunt his every waking and dreaming moment.

“I think I can help you with the headaches, if you’ll let me,” Stephen said. He knew Tony didn’t like letting others see his weaknesses. It was telling how tired and hurt Tony was that he had told Stephen anything.

Tony blinked at him slowly. “Yeah, sure.”

Stephen nodded and pulled off his gloves. Tony had seen his hands before. He reached out slowly, giving Tony a chance to pull away. Tony watched him, whiskey eyes following Stephen’s hands.

Stephen rested his fingers against Tony’s temples, the sounds of the party falling away as he began to whisper in a different language. Tony’s eyes fell shut as warmth spread from Stephen’s fingers. He leaned into Stephen’s hands, chasing the human contact. Stephen wondered how often someone touched Tony and didn’t want anything. Tony thought he saw flashes of orange light through his eyelids, and then it was like a rubber band snapping inside his mind.

He let out a loud groan, slumping against Stephen’s chest. He could still feel scarred fingers tracing his face.

“Oh, fuck. Oh my god,” Tony muttered, fingers curling in Stephen’s shirt.

“Tony?” Stephen asked quietly.

Tony groaned, the warmth of Stephen’s hands and chest seeping into his head. His head didn’t hurt. He didn’t hurt. His mind was quiet.

“I think I can sleep,” he whispered.

“Then sleep,” Stephen said, adjusting on the couch. Tony lifted his head, staring at Stephen for a moment. 

“Here?” Tony asked.

Stephen shrugged. “Why not? No one is paying attention. You’ve provided plenty of food and drink for them.”

Tony tried to think of a reason not to, but sleep beckoned him, pulling him under.

Stephen helped Tony spread out on the couch, stilling when Tony’s head came to rest on his thigh.

“Is this okay?” Tony asked, feeling him tense.

“It’s fine,” Stephen whispered, gently touching Tony’s head. Tony’s hand curled on Stephen’s knee and his eyes slipped closed. Tony started when something heavy spread over his body and he opened his eyes a crack, seeing the Cloak settle over him.

It was heavy and comforting and warm. Stephen’s thigh was firm beneath his head. He thought he felt Stephen’s fingers in his hair, but sleep took him like a wave and he knew nothing.

:::

Stephen carded his fingers through Tony’s hair, feeling him relax. He twisted his hands through the air, muffling the sounds of the party so nothing would disturb Tony. He opened a portal and reached through, grabbing his book off his bedside table from the Sanctum. He propped it on the arm of the couch, his other hand still on Tony’s head.

He had known Tony was having trouble sleeping, but he hadn’t realized it had been so bad. Hearing that Tony hadn’t slept well since Afghanistan broke Stephen’s heart. In the year since Thanos was turned to dust, Stephen had watched Tony withdraw from the world at large.

He understood it. Tony had sacrificed so much to bring Thanos down and bring them all back. Everyone seemed to want something from Tony after it was over, and Stephen thought Tony had given the world quite enough. 

He glanced down at Tony, rolling his eyes fondly at the drool already gathering on his pants.

He had watched Tony in more than fourteen million futures, had watched as the man never gave up, and yet gave up everything to save them all.

He couldn’t help falling in love with him.

He sighed, turning his attention back to the book, Tony’s head heavy on his thigh, utterly content.

:::

Peter had noticed Mr. Stark and Dr. Strange move to the couch some time earlier, but he hadn’t really thought about it. He went to find them later, intending to tell them about T’Challa throwing down some amazing dance moves.

He walked to the couch and opened his mouth to call to them, only to stop. Mr. Stark was sound asleep, head pillowed on Dr. Strange’s thigh. His mouth was open and his breathing was slow and even, fingers curled over Dr. Strange’s knee. The Cloak of Levitation was draped over him, and Dr. Strange’s hand was on his head.

Peter shut his mouth and smiled. Dr. Strange seemed to be engrossed in his book and didn’t look up.

Peter pulled his phone out and snapped a few quick pictures, smiling and stowing it away. He turned and left them alone, spreading the word not to disturb them. Of course, given that Dr. Strange could just kick anyone who bothered them through a portal to who knew where, the chances of anyone bothering the two men were slim.

He hustled to the lab, looking at the picture on his phone. “Hey, FRIDAY?”

“Yes, Peter?” Tony’s AI said.

“I just need to print a couple of these and get them framed.”

“Sure thing. Boss has a bunch of picture frames in a cabinet in the corner. He never uses them.”

“Thanks,” Peter said, getting two of the pictures printed. He paused, fingers drumming against the workbench as he stared at the pictures. He printed a third, for himself.

He found the picture frames, covered in dust and shoved in a back cabinet, and put the photos in them. He left one of the framed photos on the workbench and put the other two in his backpack. He’d take one to the Sanctum on his way home.

He went back to the party, just shaking his head whenever someone asked where he had gone.

:::

Stephen was unaware of the party winding down. Tony was still deeply asleep, drooling all over his pants. The spell that muffled the noise around them was very effective, and he enjoyed the opportunity to read for fun, even if the science in the science fiction he was reading leaned more towards fiction than science.

He gasped when someone touched his shoulder. He looked up to see Pepper smiling down at him.

“Everyone’s left,” she said quietly, eyes dropping to Tony’s sleeping form. It was good to see him sleep.

“Oh,” Stephen said, shutting his book. “I didn’t realize.” He looked at the time, the clock on the wall ticking nearly silently. It was fairly late. Or early, depending on who you asked.

He looked down at Tony. He was loath to move him. The Cloak wiggled at him slightly and Stephen nodded.

The Cloak wrapped around Tony, gently lifting him into the air. Stephen stood up, tucking his book under his arm. Pepper bit back a laugh at the puddle of drool on Stephen’s thigh. Stephen gave a wry shrug and smile. Pepper led the way through the tower to Tony’s private floor. Stephen had been here before, once or twice, but he had simply portaled through.

“Feel free to stay,” Pepper said, holding the door open as the Cloak floated through with Tony in its embrace.

Stephen nodded. “Thank you.”

“Thank you, Doctor Strange, for helping him sleep.”

Stephen nodded again, bowing his head slightly. She shut the door behind him and Stephen turned to the bed. The Cloak deposited Tony in the middle of the burgundy sheets. Stephen walked forward, sitting on the edge and working at Tony’s shoes. He let out a frustrated growl, his fingers trembling too much to get the ties undone. The Cloak batted his fingers away and did it for him. Stephen pulled Tony’s shoes off and put them in front of the closet. 

He turned to the bed, just staring at Tony.

Tony was breathing deeply, asleep. His skin was pale against the sheets. Stephen thought the man was beautiful. 

He rubbed at his head and walked forward, perching on the edge of the bed again. He should just sleep on the couch, or make a portal and go back to his room in the Sanctum.

But he didn’t want to. He didn’t want to leave Tony to wake up alone.

With a shrug, he pulled his own shoes off and opened a small portal, grabbing his pajama pants from the other side. He wasn’t going to sleep in jeans, no matter what. He changed quickly and crawled into the bed next to Tony, not giving himself any time to chicken out.

Tony mumbled in his sleep and rolled into Stephen, seeking his warmth and the comforting scent of the other man. Stephen smiled, his arms going around Tony. He took a moment to marvel at well Tony fit against him, like he was made to be next to Stephen. Tony buried his face against Stephen’s skin, and Stephen dropped his head to Tony’s, breathing against his hair.

The Cloak settled over both of them, heavy and warm, and Stephen let sleep take him.

:::

Tony woke the next day, warm and sleepy still. His mind felt free and his head didn’t hurt. He looked at the clock, surprise shooting through him. He had slept for eight hours.

He stretched, grunting in surprise when he felt another person in bed with him. It had been a long time since he’d woken up next to anyone. He lifted his head, staring at Stephen Strange in his bed.

The man was breathtaking, as always. Tony liked the way he looked younger in his sleep. He really liked the way his sheets framed Stephen’s body, his hair mussed and face slack with sleep. He really, _really_ liked Stephen Strange in his bed.

Tony had come to enjoy Stephen’s company, and the warmth that spread in his chest at the thought of waking up beside him every morning was surprising.

He reached out and brushed Stephen’s cheek. Stephen grumbled and leaned into the touch, opening his eyes and blinking at Tony.

“Mmm, go back to sleep,” Stephen muttered, pulling Tony close. Tony let out a surprised laugh, pillowing his head on Stephen’s chest. Stephen’s trembling fingers in his hair sent electric sparks through his body.

There was a lot he had to do today. He couldn’t really afford to sleep the day away.

But Stephen’s heart was steady under his ear, arm pulling him close.

“FRIDAY, cancel all my appointments today,” Tony said quietly.

“Ms. Potts already did, Boss,” FRIDAY said.

“Thank God for Pepper,” Tony said, eyes slipping closed again. FRIDAY made sure the automatic blinds were shut, and left the two men to sleep.

:::

When Tony woke the next time, Stephen was sitting up and his face was pressed against Stephen’s hip. Stephen’s hand rested on his hair. He groaned and sat up, stretching big and flopping against the pillows.

He felt damn near human again.

“Thank you,” Tony said, glancing at Stephen next to him. Stephen looked at him.

“You’re very welcome. How do you feel?”

“Better. The best I’ve felt in…hell, years.”

Stephen nodded. “Good.”

Tony’s eyes darted from Stephen’s eyes to his lips and back again. It was foolish to the extreme, but he felt energized and human and worth something whenever Stephen looked at him.

“Ah, fuck it,” Tony said, leaning forward. He pressed his lips against Stephen’s in a chaste kiss.

Stephen sucked in a surprised breath. Tony’s heart hammered in his chest. Oh god, he had fucked up. He had read Stephen’s interest all wrong and he felt the careful edges of his strong façade tearing away.

He went to pull away, gasping in shock when Stephen’s hand caught the back of his head and pulled him back, kissing him firmly.

Tony let out a shaky laugh against Stephen’s lips. Stephen pulled back slightly, resting their foreheads together. They stared at each other, neither saying a word. Stephen’s lips quirked in a smile and he pressed a kiss against the corner of Tony’s mouth.

Tony leaned into his embrace. When had this happened? When had being around Stephen Strange become normal and needed? He didn’t know, he didn’t care. Stephen had his own demons to face, but together, maybe they could face their demons, and the world.

:::

Hours later, after breakfast, Stephen went back to the Sanctum with a promise to come back that night. Neither man planned on sleeping alone any time soon. Tony wandered down to his lab, humming.

He felt lighter than he had in ages, like he actually had something to live for. The lights went on as he walked in to the lab. He headed for the workbench. Maybe he could make something for fun.

He frowned when he saw something sitting on the workbench. It was a framed photo. He picked it up, a smile spreading across his face.

It was of him and Stephen at the party the night before. He was asleep, face slack and mouth opened. It looked like he needed to apologize for drooling on Stephen’s thigh. The Cloak was over him, and Stephen was reading a book, one hand on Tony’s head. Tony’s scalp tingled with a remembered touch and his lips curled in a smile.

The thing that struck him the most about the photo was how utterly content Stephen Strange looked sitting on his couch, with Tony Stark asleep on his leg. His fingers brushed over Stephen’s face, a soft smile on his face. He’d have to do something nice for Peter. He didn’t know who else would’ve taken the photo.

“FRIDAY, call Stephen.”

“Tony, to what do I owe the pleasure?” Stephen’s voice said.

“Dinner? Tonight? You and me and the best Italian on this side of the Atlantic?” Tony asked, heart pounding.

Stephen’s chuckle wrapped around Tony, warmth exploding in his chest. “I’d love dinner.”

“Great, open a portal here at seven then we’ll go.”

“See you then,” Stephen said, hanging up.

Tony couldn’t keep the stupid grin off his face the rest of the day.

_Two Years Later_

Tony Stark-Strange rested his head on his husband’s shoulder as they slow danced in the middle of the open dance floor. He couldn’t believe he was married, to a freaking wizard, no less. It was their first dance, and he never wanted it to end.

The music drew to a close (Quill was acting as DJ. Tony wasn’t sure how he felt about that but he had to admit the music was good) and applause broke out around the room. Stephen grinned mischievously and dipped Tony back. Tony let out an indigent squawk, laughing as Stephen kissed him deeply in front of their closest friends.

“Get a room!” Peter yelled cheekily.

Tony pointed at him. “You’re grounded.”

Peter stuck his tongue out and yelped when Aunt May whacked him over the head.

Stephen smiled, pulling Tony close as other people closed in on the dance floor. Tony rested his head on Stephen’s shoulder as they watched. He looked at the ring on his finger, running his thumb over it.

Stephen took his hand and kissed the ring, blue eyes twinkling as he dropped Tony’s hand to kiss his lips. Tony hummed into the kiss, arms going around his husband’s waist.

Tony couldn’t remember a time when he had been so happy. He rested his head on Stephen’s shoulder, eyes slipping closed as Stephen rocked him back and forth. Stephen rested his chin on Tony’s head, a smile on his face.

They were both content, utterly happy in each other’s arms. 

Tony opened his eyes, watching as the party started to ramp up. He lifted his head, looking at Stephen. Stephen looked down at him, smiling.

They kissed, fingers laced together.

Tony decided maybe he could start liking parties again.

Anything was possible with Stephen at his side.

**Author's Note:**

> comments and kudos are love (and motivation!)


End file.
